Good Year Fighter
by Rubywings732
Summary: -Doctors go through many dilemma's each day. From small one's like spilling coffee on their shirt's to the occasional patient flat lining- Yeah there's that too. Sometimes Dr. Wilson wonders how House feels. He sure knows the pain; so does his friend? Who knows. Maybe a first hand reminder might be a good refreshing for his own feelings; right? -House loosing a patient-


Footsteps echoed down the sidewalk as Dr. House stood outside the hospital. His eyes trained on his clip board, notes he took while thoughts replaying over and over in his mind. A light Autumn breeze drifted past his noes and he breathed in to steady himself. Tightening his grip on the cane he shifted his feet. Pattering footsteps caught his attention;

A woman with black curly hair strolled out of the building. Dr. Cuddy. She marched to his side, leaning in to inspect his work only to smile softly. "He'll be here soon." She spoke. House only nodded. Suddenly a rumble both caught them off guard. Snapping their heads up to see a dirt stained truck turn the corner. It then pulled into the parking lot nearby. He frowned, the directed his attention back to his papers.

They waited, Dr. House idly touching his lip as he read. The slapping of feet.

"Excuse me," A man approached and Greg glanced up, holding the board close. He noticed the bags under the man's eyes, his black t-shirt with the letter M plastered red on the front. This man looked so, just so tired. Like he needed days of sleep.

"I'm looking for Mary Grace Soapston? I can't – I was told that you would meet me here."

Something twitched across Cuddy's face and her mouth looked like it was going to open.

"Oh," she breathed. "Oh, you're here to see Grace?" Dr. House stayed silent.

"Yes," The man answered, fidgeting. "Do I need to," he coughed, "do I need to sign in anywhere?"

They watched him cough and then met his eyes again.

"Have you had the flu or a cold or any upper respiratory infection within the last few weeks?"

The man shook his head.

She nodded, both doctors turned to the hospital's entrance but she paused, glancing at the new comer one more time.

"Do you mind if I see some ID?"

The man pulled his wallet out, fishing his driver's license from one of the folds, handing it to her. She took it and inspected it before handing it back.

"So you're Mark," she said, and Dr. House swallowed thickly. This is the man Grace's been calling for? The man – Mark – didn't look mad when Cuddy spoke lively to him.

She looked happy. She was smiling. Her eyes were glowing.

"Hold on, we'll take you! I want to see the look on her face…" she trailed off and walked on with House on her heels, straightening her white starched uniform as she did so, beckoning Mark inside. Through the lobby up one elevator, second floor. Mark walked past the closed doors on either side, his heart beginning to pound in his chest.

What's wrong with her?" Mark asked all of a sudden and House did a double take, slowing his walk. Mark stared into his surprised eyes. "What's the matter with her?" House soke up, his brow furrowed."You're Mark, right?"

"You're not answering my question." Dr. House looked him up and down and turned more fully to him. Cuddy stepped away and decide to find something interesting to bid her time. "Grace said Mr. Carlson had called you."

"Please, just answer the question," Mark pleaded and House's face darkened. "I think a better question is what's not wrong with her," he began, but when Mark didn't understand, his grip on the clip board loosened. "Its a Malignant."

"Mali-ggnwhat?" Mark stuttered, "I thought it was successfully removed? And was'nt it called something else before?"

House's mouth was a straight line.

"It was a Benign, but it burrowed itself deeper into the base of her brain. Causing her discomfort from all sides of the scull and-" Cuddy nudged his knee sharply and he let out a slow wince. Mark sucked in sharply. "We're doing everything we can." She corrected for Greg.

Mark nodded and House began walking again before he stopped, Mark almost bumping into him. He nodded once to Cuddy and she sighed. "I'll tell the others." She whispered, her lab coat flowing in her wake as she sutured down the hall.

"I feel like I should warn you," He whispered, and the Doctor saw that Mark's palms were beginning to get clammy. Dr. Cuddy wouldn't meet his eyes has she fled. Rightful. But, House looked up. "She's very ill, and it shows."

"I want to see her," Mark rushed, and House slowly nodded.

"Ok."

Dr. House noticed Mark's realization show because they were in front of what the man presumed to be Grace's' room. He could hear sharp hums, the sound bleeding under the door. House knocked on the door and then opened it, his face face bright, all traces of discomfort erased for a giant grin.

"How's my favorite patient?" He grinned, walking in. Mark stalled at the doorway, House's chest tight. If Grace replied, then Mark couldn't hear it very well.

"Why are you hiding out there?" Dr. House called and Mark jerked, taking a step forward into the room.

House watched as Mark swept his eyes over it and caught the bed, staring at the feet, two small hills under the blanket, and traveled upwards to two skeletal hands resting on a small lap. Two matchstick arms.

A thin chest bundled in a blue tank top and a red sweater, hanging so loosely off of the sharp shoulders it swallowed up the bulk of the body it contained. A pale green, transparent tube snaked up the fragile neck and ended in a mask.

Her once golden brown hair, gone. Replaced only by the sheer baldness of her being. –

"Mar?"

Mark's eyes snapped to Grace'. They were bright and glassy and from the sunken shadows of her face, shimmering like two hazel pools on his pale skin.

It was silent except for the soft sighing sound of a machine.

Grace lifted her hand from her lap and held it out, hovering it a few inches from the blankets. Mark watched it shake and she rested it again, the action having exhausted itself. He heard the slightly horse sound of her breathing, and her mouth curled into a huge smile under the mask, though it trembled.

"I'm glad you made it."

A heart beat slowing, breathing heavily under a sheeted cot. Eyes glazed, staring skyward as ragged air shot through them. Chapped lips closes, opens, then closes again. Slowly a nurse arrives, followed after a family. Whom all's sorrow was shared. A man with a stubble beard sobs, only to be silenced by his husband. The taller out of the two pulls him into his large arms, tightening his hold when the bearded man quietened. Her parent's.

Mark then walks quickly over to them, reaches out to shake hands but in turn enveloped into a three man hug. As awkward as the situating looked. It wasn't to them. They in turn spoke softly about the situation. Gregory respectfully kept his distance, keeping only a few inches in earshot. "yes, I called Bob and Wade. The gang will be here by tomorrow." Mark had reassured, his head turning to look upon the woman in the bed. "If she makes it untill then." Dr. House shot up, his attention drawn to a nurse. He did'nt really recall who this woman was, but that was highly unprofessional. The Doctor's blood began to boil and he just stared. unlike him to not say anything but his nerves were uprooted at the moment.

And she didn't get the hint either. Oh, but she will later. When he fires her ass.

The nurse stood well away from them, her eyes narrowing on there stilled forms. Scoffing to the floor she walks over to the bedside, she then shook its cold bars. A sickening rattle revibrated across the bed and the patient on top groaned in protest. Sighing, the nurse rolled her eyes once before twisting on her feet. Curly black hair bouncing on her shoulders as she stalked out of the room. "I'll be right back." She growled, her feet slapping against the tiles.

"no you won't. " House breathed, his eyes glaring after her. Walking over to the door and closed its entrance. Before turning back to his patient; when his heart began to ache. An organ that resided in his rib cake now felt heavy and sharp. Like splintering wood, the animal inside trying to escape from it's prison.

"Can I lie with her?" Mark suddenly asked, breaking the rattling sound of the woman's breathing. House nodded, still pretending to read something. Mark pushed the chair back and pulled the rail down. He eased himself into the bed, pulling Grace onto his shoulder.

"Mind her head," House started, but he had to cut himself off. Biting his lip to stop a banishing retort. Mark pulled the blanket over graces' lap, resting his cheek on grace' dry, brittle, hair. The woman breathed, small and slow. House ducked his head, touching the end of the bed, his eyes shooting to the floor

"It won't be too much longer," The Doctor said firmly, and Mark didn't say anything, but folded his hand over Grace's', rubbing the papery skin with his thumb. House stood at the end of the bed for a long time, and he clenched his arms around the clip board. "I'm sorry." His voice calm, but inside he was about to shatter. The professional edge had long since gone. Gregory truly hated seeing situations like this.

The pain.

Mark shook his head, listening to House's footsteps venture to the door.

In the emptiness that followed, Mark found his mouth open but no words would come out. He stroked Grace's' thin shoulder, all the way down to the sharp stab of her elbow. His fingers shook where they rested on her skin.

"It's alright," he said to the stillness. Another silent sound when Grace breathed. "It's alright. You can let go, I know – I know you're holding on, because you're worried. You're too stubborn, Grace, and I know you're holding on for me, but I'm going to do the right thing this time. I'm not – I'm not going to make you wait on me again."

Grace choked and Mark shifted her, and it seemed like something fluttered in Grace, some recognition that had been lost for hours. Mark stayed. He watched TV 'til morning, Grace still leaning against him, until, at last, she kicked her leg restlessly, her heart beating in an impossible rate, the blood that was caught in her scull forcefully pushing through her thinning veins.

House knew that. They all did

Her parents came again around 10, tears lingering in their eyes. Hands held tight in a holding passion. They approached the bed, resting free fingers onto the sheet. "Hey baby girl." The tallest out of the two spoke, choking on the last bit. Grace fluttered open her tired eyes. Her bald head raised from the pillow and gave them a shaky smile. Her father burst into tears throwing his arms gently around her into a great hug. Her papa on the other hand held her fast by the arm.

Her grin turned into a sharp frown and she screwed her face into a series of expressions. Her parents back off; unsure what they had done. Grace sucked in sharply her neck making contact with the pillow again. Hands sought after her friend, grabbing onto his black t-shirt. Dr. House, Cuddy and their small team stood at the rooms entrance. Watching intently; their hearts reaching out for the suffering family. Knowing the hurt they must feel. Because they too have grown attached to the woman; after all these months.

"It's ok," Mark assured him. "You know. You know I love you. You know I do, so it's ok. It's ok to let you go now."

He shook his head again, trying to clear the tears away but they wouldn't stop. House had said that hearing was the last thing to go. Just keep talking to her. She could be anxious, or scared. Now it was clear; she was.

"Don't be scared," Mark blurted, "you're doing so good, Grace. You're doing well." He racked his brain for something, anything, and suddenly he remembered Grace's' face looking up at him.

House leaned heavily against the door. Wilson snatched his eyes away from the scene to his friend; and let a hand rest against the Doctor's shoulder. Gregory did'nt say a thing. Oh, this was bad. He let his arm fall, slowly looking back into the room only to have his heart clench. At that moment they all did. That's when they heard it; when Mark spoke again.

"Remember?" The man hushed. "You remember that? In that book store? You know I still – I still can't remember where I heard that song. I just sort of knew the words though. Changing them to fit us" Doctor House watched as Grace breathed harshly again and Mark adjusted her top a little, smoothing it down with his palm. He watched his own hand and couldn't bring himself to do it again for a moment.

"_And all that I can Taste in this moment_," he began, "_and all I can breath is your life_…" He slid his hand to Grace's' lap, closing it around her' cold fingers.

"_When sooner or lat_-" Grace jerked, gasping, hand scrambling at nothing. Her brown eyes were wide and unseeing, and her head laid back. From where the team was standing; they witnessed Mark turning and just stared at the wall, holding her tightly, "_I j-just don't want to. Miss you t-tonight_."

There was a terrible sound. Gregory heard it. She sucked in air and it churned in her chest, the migraine has returned, thick with its threatening presence. The only difference...this will be her last one. Forever.

_I don't want the world to see us…_

Grace stopped breathing entirely.

_love you._

Mark was trying to remember what to say.

"It's ok," hearing his voice cracked. "It's ok - _I don't think they'd understand_," he sang, and the monitor was screaming, and Mark had to sing louder so Grace could hear him, bending his face as close as he could, pressing it against his temple, hoping the words would go straight into him. "_When everything's made to be broken."_

"_I just want them_,"

He sang, and his voice was falling apart, everone could barely hear him over the wail of the machinery,

"_To know who we are_…"

His fingers remained in the hollows of her cheeks, thumb brushing over her lips.

The noise peaked, and Mark was silent, unable to continue, tears falling into Grace's' hair. Her cheek was pressed into Mark's shoulder, eyes staring blankly past Mark's chest, shining out from her colorless face, two half-moons peering out from under her dark lashes. Staring at both the team and her parents. Tears unable to well from her eyes. Both father's cried, warm water splattering their button down shirts to a darkening color. "I love you so much." Mark whispered harshly now, a half sob closed into the tone.

I love you.

Beep

I love you.

Be-eep

I love –

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep-

House stood stone still. He wondered if the flat-line was something he was just making up. He wondered if it was something his mind had just conjured because that's what doctor's are used too. He couldn't think. He couldn't hear anything but the monitor, still going, the noise passing through him and everywhere. He didn't move. Didn't flinch, didn't breathe. He simply waited there, waited for some tremble that would wake him up, but it never came.

For the first time in a while; the feeling of self hurt vanished. All of his attention pinpointed on the man in advance of him.

Was HE ok?

He was vaguely aware of Foreman's shadow as he came into the room, some of the team following. Eric Foreman went to the monitor and read something out, looking at his watch."Time of death; 11:24 P.M." He turned it off and the room was pitched into silence. Mark stared at the same spot on the wall, his arms still around Grace's body, his cheek still leaned into her hair.

Eric came over to him and put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Mr. Fischbach?"

He moved his head towards the sound of Foreman's voice, but his eyes didn't move from the wall.

He squeezed his hand on Mark's arm

"Sir, we need you to get up now."

He nodded, slowly letting go of Grace and letting her sink into the pillows, the last warmth of her body pressed into Mark's arms. He stood, Allison helping him, and once he was standing he turned.

Doctor House then also looked at Grace's face, and he felt his body start to fall apart.

"Oh god," He heard Mark rasped. The parent's took him in their arms, trying to lead him out of the room, but Mark didn't move.

"Come on Mark, shhh…" Tom attempted but Mark ignored him. He was watching them gently roll Grace to a more stable position. They slipped the IV out of her arm and removed the tape. A nurse unfolded a clean white sheet and began to drape it over her.

House still couldn't move. He – he couldn't –

Gregory ran.

Well, sort of. Fast limping down the hall. His destination focused on getting out of there. Turning corners to the point where his office greeted him with welcoming arms. Pushing himself inside he slammed the door, locking it briskly with shaking fingers. Pulling down the blinds with swift tugs. Shit. One of the cords snapped-oh fuck it.

" Go- Jesus," House finally breathed; wept, his knees buckling under him. Reaching out he forced his shoulder on the wall. The rooms shadows encasing him

Shutting his eye lids only then he sobbed silently, gripping his abdomen so hard he could feel his thumbs pop. That's going to leave a bruise. .

"Greg!" A voice called from outside, and House sobbed again. _Go away._ He thought, stopping to shudder. The door's handle jiggled. Who ever was out there had a key. Wilson. Greg heaved for air, and everything was silent. Hearing a faint click, the door closed just as it opened feeling a new set of hands rub his arm. James, his best friend. Once again, here to assure things. _Oh, fuck it all _

House sank to the floor, Wilson following in his wake. Their heads pressed one another in a brotherly fashion. This broke Greg. In more ways than one

The shattering was all that he heard that point. His frail; glass heart finally broke.

It's going to take a while to piece back together...

FIN

**(Sorry 'bout that guys. Just wanted to try some things. Hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to comment, I would like some feed back! :D )**


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